Pellucidar: Chapter 2

We made camp there beside the peaceful river. There Perry told me all that
had befallen him since I had departed for the outer crust.

It seemed that Hooja had made it appear that I had intentionally left Dian
behind, and that I did not purpose ever returning to Pellucidar. He told them
that I was of another world and that I had tired of this and of its inhabitants.

To Dian he had explained that I had a mate in the world to which I was
returning; that I had never intended taking Dian the Beautiful back with me; and
that she had seen the last of me.

Shortly afterward Dian had disappeared from the camp, nor had Perry seen or
heard aught of her since.

He had no conception of the time that had elapsed since I had departed, but
guessed that many years had dragged their slow way into the past.

Hooja, too, had disappeared very soon after Dian had left. The Sarians, under
Ghak the Hairy One, and the Amozites under Dacor the Strong One, Dian's brother,
had fallen out over my supposed defection, for Ghak would not believe that I had
thus treacherously deceived and deserted them.

The result had been that these two powerful tribes had fallen upon one
another with the new weapons that Perry and I had taught them to make and to
use. Other tribes of the new federation took sides with the original disputants
or set up petty revolutions of their own.

The result was the total demolition of the work we had so well started.

Taking advantage of the tribal war, the Mahars had gathered their Sagoths in
force and fallen upon one tribe after another in rapid succession, wreaking
awful havoc among them and reducing them for the most part to as pitiable a
state of terror as that from which we had raised them.

Alone of all the once-mighty federation the Sarians and the Amozites with a
few other tribes continued to maintain their defiance of the Mahars; but these
tribes were still divided among themselves, nor had it seemed at all probable to
Perry when he had last been among them that any attempt at re-amalgamation would
be made.

"And thus, your majesty," he concluded, "has faded back into
the oblivion of the Stone Age our wondrous dream and with it has gone the First
Empire of Pellucidar."

We both had to smile at the use of my royal title, yet I was indeed still
"Emperor of Pellucidar," and some day I meant to rebuild what the vile
act of the treacherous Hooja had torn down.

But first I would find my empress. To me she was worth forty empires.

"Have you no clue as to the whereabouts of Dian?" I asked.

"None whatever," replied Perry. "It was in search of her that
I came to the pretty pass in which you discovered me, and from which, David, you
saved me.

"I knew perfectly well that you had not intentionally deserted either
Dian or Pellucidar. I guessed that in some way Hooja the Sly One was at the
bottom of the matter, and I determined to go to Amoz, where I guessed that Dian
might come to the protection of her brother, and do my utmost to convince her,
and through her Dacor the Strong One, that we had all been victims of a
treacherous plot to which you were no party.

"I came to Amoz after a most trying and terrible journey, only to find
that Dian was not among her brother's people and that they knew naught of her
whereabouts.

"Dacor, I am sure, wanted to be fair and just, but so great were his
grief and anger over the disappearance of his sister that he could not listen to
reason, but kept repeating time and again that only your return to Pellucidar
could prove the honesty of your intentions.

"Then came a stranger from another tribe, sent I am sure at the
instigation of Hooja. He so turned the Amozites against me that I was forced to
flee their country to escape assassination.

"In attempting to return to Sari I became lost, and then the Sagoths
discovered me. For a long time I eluded them, hiding in caves and wading in
rivers to throw them off my trail.

"I lived on nuts and fruits and the edible roots that chance threw in my
way.

"I traveled on and on, in what directions I could not even guess; and at
last I could elude them no longer and the end came as I had long foreseen that
it would come, except that I had not foreseen that you would be there to save
me."

We rested in our camp until Perry had regained sufficient strength to travel
again. We planned much, rebuilding all our shattered air-castles; but above all
we planned most to find Dian.

I could not believe that she was dead, yet where she might be in this savage
world, and under what frightful conditions she might be living, I could not
guess.

When Perry was rested we returned to the prospector, where he fitted himself
out fully like a civilized human being--under-clothing, socks, shoes, khaki
jacket and breeches and good, substantial puttees.

When I had come upon him he was clothed in rough sadak sandals, a gee-string
and a tunic fashioned from the shaggy hide of a thag. Now he wore real clothing
again for the first time since the ape-folk had stripped us of our apparel that
long-gone day that had witnessed our advent within Pellucidar.

With a bandoleer of cartridges across his shoulder, two six-shooters at his
hips, and a rifle in his hand he was a much rejuvenated Perry.

Indeed he was quite a different person altogether from the rather shaky old
man who had entered the prospector with me ten or eleven years before, for the
trial trip that had plunged us into such wondrous ad- ventures and into such a
strange and hitherto un- dreamed-of-world.

Now he was straight and active. His muscles, almost atrophied from disuse in
his former life, had filled out.

He was still an old man of course, but instead of appearing ten years older
than he really was, as he had when we left the outer world, he now appeared
about ten years younger. The wild, free life of Pellucidar had worked wonders
for him.

Well, it must need have done so or killed him, for a man of Perry's former
physical condition could not long have survived the dangers and rigors of the
primitive life of the inner world.

Perry had been greatly interested in my map and in the "royal
observatory" at Greenwich. By use of the pedometers we had retraced our way
to the prospector with ease and accuracy.

Now that we were ready to set out again we decided to follow a different
route on the chance that it might lead us into more familiar territory.

I shall not weary you with a repetition of the count- less adventures of our
long search. Encounters with wild beasts of gigantic size were of almost daily
occurrence; but with our deadly express rifles we ran comparatively little risk
when one recalls that previously we had both traversed this world of frightful
dangers inadequately armed with crude, primitive weapons and all but naked.

We ate and slept many times--so many that we lost count--and so I do not know
how long we roamed, though our map shows the distances and directions quite
accurately. We must have covered a great many thousand square miles of
territory, and yet we had seen nothing in the way of a familiar landmark, when
from the heights of a mountain-range we were crossing I descried far in the
distance great masses of billowing clouds.

Now clouds are practically unknown in the skies of Pellucidar. The moment
that my eyes rested upon them my heart leaped. I seized Perry's arm and,
pointing toward the horizonless distance, shouted:

"The Mountains of the Clouds!"

"They lie close to Phutra, and the country of our worst enemies, the
Mahars," Perry remonstrated.

"I know it," I replied, "but they give us a starting-point
from which to prosecute our search intelligently. They are at least a familiar
landmark.

"They tell us that we are upon the right trail and not wandering far in
the wrong direction.

"Furthermore, close to the Mountains of the Clouds dwells a good friend,
Ja the Mezop. You did not know him, but you know all that he did for me and all
that he will gladly do to aid me.

"At least he can direct us upon the right direction toward Sari."

"The Mountains of the Clouds constitute a mighty range," replied
Perry. "They must cover an enormous territory. How are you to find your
friend in all the great country that is visible from their rugged flanks?"

"Easily," I answered him, "for Ja gave me minute directions. I
recall almost his exact words:

"'You need merely come to the foot of the highest peak of the Mountains
of the Clouds. There you will find a river that flows into the Lural Az.

"'Directly opposite the mouth of the river you will see three large
islands far out--so far that they are barely discernible. The one to the extreme
left as you face them from the mouth of the river is Anoroc, where I rule the
tribe of Anoroc.'"

And so we hastened onward toward the great cloud- mass that was to be our
guide for several weary marches. At last we came close to the towering crags,
Alp-like in their grandeur.

Rising nobly among its noble fellows, one stupendous peak reared its giant
head thousands of feet above the others. It was he whom we sought; but at its
foot no river wound down toward any sea.

"It must rise from the opposite side," suggested Perry, casting a
rueful glance at the forbidding heights that barred our further progress.
"We cannot endure the arctic cold of those high flung passes, and to
traverse the endless miles about this interminable range might re- quire a year
or more. The land we seek must lie upon the opposite side of the
mountains."

"Then we must cross them," I insisted.

Perry shrugged.

"We can't do it, David," he repeated, "We are dressed for the
tropics. We should freeze to death among the snows and glaciers long before we
had discovered a pass to the opposite side."

"We must cross them," I reiterated. "We will cross them."

I had a plan, and that plan we carried out. It took some time.

First we made a permanent camp part way up the slopes where there was good
water. Then we set out in search of the great, shaggy cave bear of the higher
altitudes.

He is a mighty animal--a terrible animal. He is but little larger than his
cousin of the lesser, lower hills; but he makes up for it in the awfulness of
his ferocity and in the length and thickness of his shaggy coat. It was his coat
that we were after.

We came upon him quite unexpectedly. I was trudging in advance along a rocky
trail worn smooth by the padded feet of countless ages of wild beasts. At a
shoulder of the mountain around which the path ran I came face to face with the
Titan.

I was going up for a fur coat. He was coming down for breakfast. Each
realized that here was the very thing he sought.

I shouted to him in warning, and then I raised my rifle and fired into the
broad breast of the creature. There was no time to take aim; the thing was too
close upon me.

But that my bullet took effect was evident from the howl of rage and pain
that broke from the frothing jowls. It didn't stop him, though.

I fired again, and then he was upon me. Down I went beneath his ton of
maddened, clawing flesh and bone and sinew.

I thought my time had come. I remember feeling sorry for poor old Perry, left
all alone in this inhospitable, savage world.

And then of a sudden I realized that the bear was gone and that I was quite
unharmed. I leaped to my feet, my rifle still clutched in my hand, and looked
about for my antagonist.

I thought that I should find him farther down the trail, probably finishing
Perry, and so I leaped in the direction I supposed him to be, to find Perry
perched upon a projecting rock several feet above the trail. My cry of warning
had given him time to reach this point of safety.

There he squatted, his eyes wide and his mouth ajar, the picture of abject
terror and consternation.

"Where is he?" he cried when he saw me. "Where is he?"

"Didn't he come this way?" I asked,

"Nothing came this way," replied the old man. "But I heard his
roars--he must have been as large as an elephant."

"He was," I admitted; "but where in the world do you suppose
he disappeared to?"

Then came a possible explanation to my mind. I re- turned to the point at
which the bear had hurled me down and peered over the edge of the cliff into the
abyss below.

Far, far down I saw a small brown blotch near the bottom of the canon. It was
the bear.

My second shot must have killed him, and so his dead body, after hurling me
to the path, had toppled over into the abyss. I shivered at the thought of how
close I, too, must have been to going over with him.

It took us a long time to reach the carcass, and arduous labor to remove the
great pelt. But at last the thing was accomplished, and we returned to camp
dragging the heavy trophy behind us.

Here we devoted another considerable period to scraping and curing it. When
this was done to our satisfaction we made heavy boots, trousers, and coats of
the shaggy skin, turning the fur in.

From the scraps we fashioned caps that came down around our ears, with flaps
that fell about our shoulders and breasts. We were now fairly well equipped for
our search for a pass to the opposite side of the Mountains of the Clouds.

Our first step now was to move our camp upward to the very edge of the
perpetual snows which cap this lofty range. Here we built a snug, secure little
hut, which we provisioned and stored with fuel for its diminutive fireplace.

With our hut as a base we sallied forth in search of a pass across the range.

Our every move was carefully noted upon our maps which we now kept in
duplicate. By this means we were saved tedious and unnecessary retracing of ways
already explored.

Systematically we worked upward in both directions from our base, and when we
had at last discovered what seemed might prove a feasible pass we moved our be-
longings to a new hut farther up.

It was hard work--cold, bitter, cruel work. Not a step did we take in advance
but the grim reaper strode silently in our tracks.

There were the great cave bears in the timber, and gaunt, lean wolves--huge
creatures twice the size of our Canadian timber-wolves. Farther up we were as-
sailed by enormous white bears--hungry, devilish fellows, who came roaring
across the rough glacier tops at the first glimpse of us, or stalked us
stealthily by scent when they had not yet seen us.

It is one of the peculiarities of life within Pellucidar that man is more
often the hunted than the hunter. Myriad are the huge-bellied carnivora of this
primitive world. Never, from birth to death, are those great bellies
sufficiently filled, so always are their mighty owners prowling about in search
of meat.

Terribly armed for battle as they are, man presents to them in his primal
state an easy prey, slow of foot, puny of strength, ill-equipped by nature with
natural weapons of defense.

The bears looked upon us as easy meat. Only our heavy rifles saved us from
prompt extinction. Poor Perry never was a raging lion at heart, and I am
convinced that the terrors of that awful period must have caused him poignant
mental anguish.

When we were abroad pushing our trail farther and farther toward the distant
break which, we assumed, marked a feasible way across the range, we never knew
at what second some great engine of clawed and fanged destruction might rush
upon us from behind, or lie in wait for us beyond an ice-hummock or a jutting
shoulder of the craggy steeps.

The roar of our rifles was constantly shattering the world-old silence of
stupendous canons upon which the eye of man had never before gazed. And when in
the comparative safety of our hut we lay down to sleep the great beasts roared
and fought without the walls, clawed and battered at the door, or rushed their
colossal frames headlong against the hut's sides until it rocked and trembled to
the impact.

Perry had got to taking stock of our ammunition each time we returned to the
hut. It became something of an obsession with him.

He'd count our cartridges one by one and then try to figure how long it would
be before the last was ex- pended and we must either remain in the hut until we
starved to death or venture forth, empty, to fill the belly of some hungry bear.

I must admit that I, too, felt worried, for our progress was indeed
snail-like, and our ammunition could not last forever. In discussing the
problem, finally we came to the decision to burn our bridges behind us and make
one last supreme effort to cross the divide.

It would mean that we must go without sleep for a long period, and with the
further chance that when the time came that sleep could no longer be denied we
might still be high in the frozen regions of perpetual snow and ice, where sleep
would mean certain death, exposed as we would be to the attacks of wild beasts
and without shelter from the hideous cold.

But we decided that we must take these chances and so at last we set forth
from our hut for the last time, carrying such necessities as we felt we could
least afford to do without. The bears seemed unusually troublesome and
determined that time, and as we clambered slowly upward beyond the highest point
to which we had previously attained, the cold became infinitely more intense.

Presently, with two great bears dogging our footsteps we entered a dense fog,

We had reached the heights that are so often cloud- wrapped for long periods.
We could see nothing a few paces beyond our noses.

We dared not turn back into the teeth of the bears which we could hear
grunting behind us. To meet them in this bewildering fog would have been to
court instant death.

Perry was almost overcome by the hopelessness of our situation. He flopped
down on his knees and began to pray.

It was the first time I had heard him at his old habit since my return to
Pellucidar, and I had thought that he had given up his little idiosyncrasy; but
he hadn't. Far from it.

I let him pray for a short time undisturbed, and then as I was about to
suggest that we had better be pushing along one of the bears in our rear let out
a roar that made the earth fairly tremble beneath our feet.

It brought Perry to his feet as if he had been stung by a wasp, and sent him
racing ahead through the blinding fog at a gait that I knew must soon end in
disaster were it not checked.

Crevasses in the glacier-ice were far too frequent to permit of reckless
speed even in a clear atmosphere, and then there were hideous precipices along
the edges of which our way often led us. I shivered as I thought of the poor old
fellow's peril.

At the top of my lungs I called to him to stop, but he did not answer me. And
then I hurried on in the direction he had gone, faster by far than safety
dictated.

For a while I thought I heard him ahead of me, but at last, though I paused
often to listen and to call to him, I heard nothing more, not even the grunting
of the bears that had been behind us. All was deathly silence--the silence of
the tomb. About me lay the thick, impenetrable fog.

I was alone. Perry was gone--gone forever, I had not the slightest doubt.

Somewhere near by lay the mouth of a treacherous fissure, and far down at its
icy bottom lay all that was mortal of my old friend, Abner Perry. There would
his body he preserved in its icy sepulcher for countless ages, until on some far
distant day the slow-moving river of ice had wound its snail-like way down to
the warmer level, there to disgorge its grisly evidence of grim tragedy, and
what in that far future age, might mean baffling mystery.